


Tall Bitch

by djupcake



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Fluff, Mild Language, No Garfield is not in this fic, One Shot, Romantic Comedy, Sneaky Cats, lasagna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29496954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djupcake/pseuds/djupcake
Summary: Elsa is a tall bitch. Not in a "Damn bitch, you're tall!" kind of way. More so that she's tall, and conveniently also a bitch. Anna's the only one that doesn't believe that.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	Tall Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I made the mistake of saying that my next fic would be titled "Tall Bitch" and thus this one-shot was born. Though it's never explicitly stated, Anna is 5'6" (1.67m), and Elsa is 6'2" (1.88m).

* * *

Anna loves her cat Snowflake. The fluffy, white bundle of sass and class is unashamedly one of her best friends, and ever since her parents died and she moved to a new place to "get away from everything", she's been a bright spot during some dark days. The only problem is that Snowflake loves...exploring. All it takes is a window or the front door of the apartment to be open for maybe five seconds, and Snowflake's slithered away to who knows where.

One way or another, though, she finds her way back home, usually after one of the neighbors returns her to Anna. Honestly, if it wasn't for Snowflake's adventures, she probably wouldn't know anyone who lived on her floor. It's how she met her best friend Kristoff, his girlfriend Ariel, and her asshole landlord Mr. Weaselton. Or Weselton. Worcestershire? It started with a W.

It's become almost a routine at least once a week for a neighbor to come by returning her cat. So, this time around, when there's a knock on her door and the absence of a certain cat in her small, one-bedroom apartment, she's already started reciting her usual spiel as she's opening the door.

"Hey! Thank you so much for bringing back Sno….oh, you're pretty."

The stunning, _tall,_ blonde woman holding her cat in one hand eyes her with confusion. "Uh...excuse me?" she says, not letting Anna off the hook with her inappropriate comment.

Anna blinks, her face heating up faster than her crappy laptop trying to run Spotify. "I, uh...you're pretty new. I think? Well new to my door. Usually it's someone else dropping Snowflake off, so I didn't expect you to...show up. Can I start over? Hi, I'm Anna."

This isn't good, Anna's usually much better at talking to people. It's one of her most marketable skills. But there's something about this woman that's intimidating her in more ways than one. Her head is at level with Anna's door frame and she has to look up an embarrassing amount to catch a glimpse at her piercing blue eyes. And while the woman's long-sleeve shirt, sweatpants, and sandals make her feel approachable, her cold scowl says otherwise.

Anna feels herself shrinking with each passing second that she looks at her, and yet she can't look away. Not until the woman holds Snowflake out and says, "Stop losing your cat."

"Yup. Sorry," Anna quickly responds, taking Snowflake back and cradling her in her arms. She tickles her cat's furry belly and fake lectures her, "You've officially lost your Netflix privileges for the rest of the day, madame. Now what do we say to the...hey sorry again, but what's your-"

The mystery woman is already gone.

* * *

"Oh hey, you finally met Tall Bitch!"

Anna raises an eyebrow, scratching at the label of her beer in one hand and petting Snowflake with the other. "The who now?"

Kristoff leans back in his chair and kicks one of his feet up on Anna's coffee table. "Tall Bitch," he says as if that's supposed to answer all her questions. "She lives on the floor above us, been here for almost a year now. Everyone calls her that because she's kinda tall and, you know, kind of a bitch."

Anna kicks his feet off the table and frowns, "That's so mean. Do you even know her real name?"

"Yeah. It's Elsa. But everyone calls her Tall Bitch."

Elsa.

Huh.

Such an elegant name for the kind of woman who'd probably be royalty in a previous life. Even Kristoff makes it sound beautiful, and he's not exactly a smooth talker. It's certainly much better than her other "name". Anna tries it out, saying "Elsa" softly and finding that it has a satisfying quality to it.

"So, when are you gonna ask her out?"

Had Anna been drinking her beer, she certainly would have spit it back out. Instead, she lets out odd sputtering noises that don't even phase the cat underneath her stiffening grasp. "Uh wh- excuse me?"

"Oh please, you're so into her," Kristoff says while taking another sip.

"I don't even know her!" Anna says, offended for...some reason. It'll probably become clear to her later.

"Yeah, but you want to."

"That…" Anna realizes she can't dispute that because the truth was she kind of _did_ want to know more about this mysterious Elsa person. More so out of curiosity than affection, but she also can't deny her attraction. Her outfit and demeanor made Elsa feel like an off-duty superhero, and Anna's always had a pitiful crush on Captain Marvel. "That's irrelevant," she says unconvincingly.

Kristoff chuckles, "Whatever you say, Anna. Fair warning, though, she does _not_ like people."

* * *

Against better judgment, Anna decides to put that theory to the test. After a bit of asking around, she's able to find out where Elsa's apartment is and, armed with a tupperware container full of lasagna, she knocks on the door with a bit too eagerness.

She takes a breath and tells herself, "Alright dial it back, Anna. Just...you're just here to say hi. And apologize about Snowflake. And give her an apology lasagna. That's all."

Unspoken- and stupidly hopeful- parts of her plan include getting to know Elsa a little better, maybe even being welcomed into her apartment, and maybe even sharing the lasagna with her new best friend. Or girlfriend, it's whatever.

Again, despite knowing she'll see Elsa when the door opens, Anna's still at a loss for words. This time around, the taller _non-_ bitch-woman is wearing a long pair of paint-splattered overalls and a wrinkled white undershirt. Her hair is done in a tight ponytail, and Anna can see droplets of sweat along her forehead. Along with that all-too-familiar scowl.

When Elsa doesn't respond, Anna clears her throat and says "Hi!" in a higher-pitched voice than usual. "I-It's Elsa right?"

"What do you want?" Elsa replies quickly.

"That's not a no," Anna mumbles to herself and then says with her normal voice, "I'm here because- I mean I wanted to say thank you for bringing Snowflake back. And sorry if she messed up your apartment in any way."

"She wasn't in my apartment."

Gosh, the way Elsa responds so fast makes Anna self-conscious, like maybe she should be speaking faster too. "She didn't? Uh she wasn't?"

Elsa nods slightly towards a spot behind Anna, "She was in the hallway. Someone said she belonged to you."

"Oh. Well still, thank you for bringing her back. And I made some lasagna as a thank you gift." She holds out the container like it's the Valentine's day card she made for her crush in elementary school. "And an apology."

Blue eyes deliberately go from the container and back to Anna's uncertain, not-as-blue eyes. "You made this for me?" she asks with maybe some curiosity? That might just be wishful thinking on Anna's part though.

"Yes!" Anna exclaims. But then realizing that might seem too forward, she backtracks, "W-well I made it for me first because, you know, I like lasagna and then I figured 'Why not give some to the pretty- uh...p-pretty decent woman, er, person who saved Snowflake?' It wasn't a big deal, really, I like cooking stuff. Especially pasta. It's my favorite."

"I'm allergic to tomatoes."

"Wh-"

Elsa closes the door in her face.

* * *

The next time Anna sees Elsa, it's because she almost kills her.

Well, okay that's a little bit of exaggeration, she just spilled coffee on Elsa while trying to get out of the elevator. But if the coffee was a hundred degrees hotter, it totally would have burned Elsa's skin off. Instead, it just gets all over her white dress shirt and causes her to give a glare that makes Anna weak in the knees for more than one reason.

Anna's adamant at helping her clean up the spill, following her into the public restroom despite Elsa telling her not to. Without even checking to see if anyone's inside, Elsa unbuttons her shirt, takes it off, and runs it under the sink. "This is just what I needed," she grumbles, Anna doesn't think she's supposed to hear that.

She checks the stalls herself, finding strange relief to know that they're alone, and even locks the door so no one walks in on them. All while trying not to notice the outlines of a black bra underneath Elsa's tank top. "Any way I can help?"

"I think you've done enough," Elsa snaps back without even looking at her.

Although it's fair for Elsa to be mad, it still hurts to hear. Anna notices her periodically having to take her hands out of the sink and shake off the water, and even though she's already put her foot in her mouth enough for one lifetime, she says, "Cold water."

She gets an annoyed glance her way for her troubles. "What?"

"Cold water helps with coffee stains. And soap. I-I've spilled a lot of coffee on myself."

"That's not surprising," Elsa says harshly, but turns the faucets so that cold water is now pouring onto her shirt. She even remembers to get soap out of the dispenser and rub it into the stain.

"D-do you need another shirt? You can use mine," Anna says, not realizing how stupid those words are until it's too late to take them back. Elsa's clearly dressed for some corporate job, and Anna's wearing a shirt with an otter on it that says _Significant Otter_. It's a genius pun, but definitely not proper office wear.

"I don't want your shirt. I'm going back to my apartment." Elsa turns off the faucet and inspects her shirt. It's definitely drenched, but at least from Anna's perspective there's no longer an ugly brown splotch on it.

"Well, let me do something else then. As an apology."

Elsa lays her shirt down on the counter, ducks her head for a second and sighs, "Why?"

"Wh-why? What do you mean?"

She turns around and leans on the counter- and they're _still_ not at eye level, holy damn- eyeing the guilt-ridden coffee culprit with curiosity and condemnation. "Why are you trying so hard to get to know me?"

Anna wants to remark that she's definitely tried harder to get to know someone before, but she probably won't appreciate that answer. "I...I don't know? Because you're interesting?"

"I'm...interesting." Elsa spits the word back at her like it's old milk.

"Well yeah, you're like a lot different than anyone I know. And it's interesting." Anna's trying really hard not to state the more obvious reason she wants to get to know Elsa. Chances are, she won't appreciate being hit on by someone that just dumped hot coffee on her.

Elsa raises her eyebrow, "Is that supposed to be a code word for something?"

"No! It's not, I...gosh I can't think of anyway else to say it. I don't have this big, profound reason to want to know you, but-"

"Then why not just say that?"

"I'm sorry?"

Elsa shrugs, and while she's got that signature scowl on, her eyes have softened. Going from anger to something akin to annoyance. "Why don't you just say you don't have a reason? You could have just said you wanted to talk to me or have lunch or something."

Well, this is going much better than Anna anticipated.

"Not anymore obviously, but you could have."

Ah okay, no it's not.

"Wait why not anymore?" Anna asks dumbly.

"Because you blew it." Elsa stands back up and once again the height difference is far too apparent. "Anyway I gotta throw this in the wash. See you around, Lasagna Girl. Or not. Whatever."

She reaches behind Anna and unlocks the door, walking back into the lobby.

"I-It's Anna…"

* * *

"Holy shit, she shut you _down_!" Kristoff howls, immediately getting smacked in the arm by Anna.

"Not funny," she says with a scowl that nowhere near rivals Elsa's in intensity or believability. "Besides, there was nothing between us anyway, so there was nothing to shut down."

Kristoff rubs his arm and rolls his eye, "Please, like you're still not totally in love with her."

"Hey maybe let's not use the super-strong-L-word?"

He puts his hands up in mock surrender, "Fine. But hey, for what it's worth, you were able to have a longer conversation with Tall Bitch than anyone on this entire block. So congratulations, you deserve a medal."

Anna brings her feet up on the couch, pressing her knees to her chest. Aside from the fact you shouldn't get a medal just for being a decent human being, something else about Kristoff's comment rubs her the wrong way. "Is that true? No one's ever had like a real conversation with Elsa?"

"From what I've seen, you're the first. But you aren't the first one she's shut down." Kristoff scratches his head and looks away before muttering, "Totally not speaking from experience."

"That's really sad, don't you think?" she asks with a frown. All she can imagine is Elsa, alone in her apartment with an entire building of people who haven't so much as said hi to her.

"She seems like a pretty guarded person."

"But no one can be _that_ guarded, right?"

Kristoff shrugs, "I don't know. Or maybe she just hates people."

That image of Elsa alone magnifies into a full picture in her mind. She sees Elsa, eating alone on her couch without so much as a cat to turn to when something cool happens on the show she's binging. She sees Elsa, coming home from work and slipping out of her clothes, collapsing onto her bed after another exhausting day with no one to talk to about it. She sees Elsa, coming down the elevator with a cart full of strangers that could be more than that if they turned around and at least asked how she was doing. And maybe she's wrong about all of these, maybe she's hardcore projecting the grief she still feels over losing her parents. But if she's _right_ then…then she has to do something about it.

Right?

* * *

Anna takes a deep breath and squats down to pet her sprawled-out cat. "Alright Snowflake, it's time."

Snowflake licks her paws, or purrs, or something like that. I don't know, I don't own a cat.

"If I'm not back by dinner, I put money for pizza on the fridge. And if I _never_ come back, then call Kristoff. He has specific instructions on what to do in the event of my untimely demise." She pets Snowflake one last time before standing back up. This could go just fine, or it could blow up in her face again, regardless she still needs to try.

The walk up to Elsa's apartment door is simple enough, it's when she goes to knock on it when things get complicated. Because she can't knock on the door. Apprehension stops her in her tracks, making her second guess this entire ridiculous plan. If Kristoff's right, and that Elsa just doesn't like people, then this is pointless. And for all she knows, Elsa might actually have an active social life outside of her apartment. Which is the problem, she knows next to nothing about her.

And what makes her think Elsa wants to let her know anything?

No, she can't think like that. There's something that keeps drawing her towards this woman she no longer wants to consider a mystery. Something strong, intangible, unrelenting. Of course, it might also just be her big, lesbian crush on the tall blonde, but either way she wants to see what will happen. Once more, she raises her hand to knock on the door.

"Did you need something?"

Anna jumps and sees Elsa standing a couple of feet away from her with her arms crossed. This time, her hair is in a neat bun and she's wearing slacks and a stain-free white shirt. And oh she's wearing glasses too. That's...great, that ticks off the second-to-last box for Anna.

"Elsa! Hi! Gosh, you scare me- _scared_ me, I mean. You scared me." She would appreciate it if her spirit would go back inside her body. "I'm not doing anything weird to your door if that's what you're worried about."

Elsa doesn't look amused, but then again she's never been amused by Anna. "Did you _need_ something?" she repeats.

Now or never, Anna tells herself. She summons all the courage she has to keep from rambling or stuttering anymore and speaks, "Yes. I wanted to talk to you. Like an actual getting to know you kind of conversation. And I know you already said that I blew it, so I'm asking you to give me another chance. My first impression kinda sucked, I know, and so did my second, but I promise you the third one won't be so bad."

"So, that's it? You just want to get to know me?"

"Mmmhmm," Anna replies.

Elsa's eyes narrow, as if she's suspicious of Anna's entire face. "There's no other reason than that?"

Anna opens her mouth to speak, but it's as if Elsa senses that she's about to omit the embarrassing truth. She sighs, "Okay fine, I might also kinda sorta have a crush on you too." This whole situation is so strange for her. She's obviously had crushes before and the confessions were always these awkward yet cathartic moments but never has she had to say it so matter-of-factly. She always flowered up her confessions by mentioning the heart and feelings and all that other crap.

It's as she figured: Elsa's different.

"Yeah, I thought so," Elsa replies, but there's so little emotion to it. She sounds neither put off nor flattered, it's almost like she's just been told the weather.

"Hey look no pressure or anything, if you don't want to do anything then I can-"

"Did I say I didn't want to do anything?"

Anna doesn't even try to answer that. She shuts her mouth, standing as straight as a board, waiting and agonizing over Elsa's response. Step by step, Elsa moves forward until once again Anna has to look up at her piercing gaze. It's like she's both looking through her and at all of her. For some reason, the bizarre thought crosses Anna's mind that Elsa's about to eat her. But that doesn't happen, and Elsa definitively responds.

"Give me a second to change. And we can go get lunch."

* * *

The lunch feels like it should be an ambiguously happy ending to this strange tale, but it's actually a brutally awkward affair.

It feels too much like an interview and not, well, whatever it's supposed to be in Anna's head. They go to this delicious deli down the street, and Elsa pays for both of their sandwiches after a firm shake of her head when Anna tries to pull out her wallet. When she's not chewing, Elsa's answering any and all questions that Anna has. There seems to be no limit to what Elsa will share with her.

Anna learns that Elsa's an only child and that her parents are still alive but she doesn't speak to them as much ever since she moved here. She learns that Elsa has a Master's in Psychology, and is in the last round of interviews for a therapist position at this fancy hospital downtown. And most surprisingly, she learns that Elsa's an artist. Specifically oil painting. It's a hobby she picked up while in college, and it eventually evolved into a stress reliever and a creative outlet.

The lunch paints a new, more complex picture, all pun intended, of Elsa. An abstract piece, one that Anna can't understand just yet because she's focusing too much on the minor details.

Elsa doesn't ask Anna anything about herself, though, and when she's done eating, the lunch is over. She walks out of the deli, leaving Anna with one last question on the tip of her tongue. Is this what she wanted? Did Elsa even enjoy herself?

For the rest of the week, Anna's left wondering if her third impression just wasn't good enough for Elsa. And then, she gets a knock on her door and...and it's Elsa. She's asking, no, telling Anna to join her for lunch again.

They go to the same deli, order the same sandwiches, sit at the same table, and Elsa tells her to ask more things about her. Too dumbfounded by this development, Anna decides to not question it.

She learns that Elsa's allergic to shellfish, even touching a lobster will cause a reaction. She learns that Elsa didn't get the therapist position, but already has another interview lined up somewhere else. Apparently, this is routine for her. She also learns that Elsa has a lot of experience in dating. Rather, she's been on a lot of dates with men and women but has never had a long-term relationship before.

Again, Elsa leaves once the lunch is over. Again, Anna processes by herself everything that just happened. And again, the next week, Elsa's back at her door telling her to join her for lunch.

This goes on for almost two months, to the point that Anna's already fed Snowflake and dresses up in proper date-but-not-really attire before Elsa even knocks on her door. She learns so much about Elsa in those two months, the painting becomes more and more vivid, but there's something that isn't sitting right with her. And she knows what it is.

On their eighth lunch, Anna comes right out and asks, "What are we doing?"

Elsa wipes the corner of her mouth and replies stoically, "We're having lunch." Because after all this time, Anna still hasn't seen her show any emotion other than disdain over a bad cut of meat in her sandwich.

Anna isn't afraid to show her frustration towards Elsa though, not anymore. "You know what I mean. Every week, you invite me for lunch and we talk and it's great, but right after you're done eating you leave and I don't hear from you until the next week. What is... _this_ to you?" she asks, gesturing towards them both.

The way that Elsa shrugs so effortlessly makes Anna's frustration grow, "It's a part of my schedule. You said you wanted to talk, you were honest about it, so I made time for you in my schedule."

Two months ago, Anna probably would have found that strangely endearing, but not this time. "Elsa, I'm not just some...appointment on your calendar! When I said I wanted to get to know you- actually no, you already _know_ why because you made me tell you. I like you Elsa, kind of a lot. And I _still_ like you, even though I probably shouldn't. I want to enjoy this time with you too, but it's like you're not even seeing me. You just see some cardboard cutout of me. Or something like that."

Elsa puts her half-eaten sandwich down. "If you want to stop, then we can stop," she says with her unwavering coldness.

Anna lets out a pitiful laugh, "God, you really don't care about me at all."

"That's not what I said."

"It doesn't matter!" Anna snaps. This feels so new to her, and dirty. She's never been this upset at anyone in her life, and it isn't sitting well with her. But she feels like Elsa needs to hear this, and she needs to say it because it will continue to eat at her if she doesn't. "You're so careful about what you say and how you say it, that you're never actually listening! You don't actually care about what _I_ have to say, and you never will because you're scared. You're scared I might push you away before you do it first. But if you were really listening, you'd know that I would never have done that to you."

And finally she sees it: a crack in the armor, a subtle wince, a momentary falter in Elsa's voice as she says her name. "Anna…"

But Anna's had enough. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I-I know what I want, and it's not...whatever _this_ is." She stands up, leaving her barely touched sandwich on the table. And a shell-shocked lunch date all by herself.

* * *

"Well...can't say I didn't warn you."

"Shut up, Kristoff."

"Yep, I deserved that."

* * *

Anna sets Snowflake's food bowl down, and when the cat doesn't come scurrying over to eat, she lets out a sigh. Whatever, she thinks to herself.

An hour later, one of her neighbors returns the cat to her.

* * *

Mr. Weselton finally gets around to fixing her radiator. Turns out all it took was someone accidentally hitting it with a baseball bat six times.

* * *

While browsing Facebook, Anna gets the unfortunate suggestion to add Elsa as a friend. She makes the mistake of not getting off her laptop right after. And she makes the bigger mistake of going through Elsa's profile.

There are maybe five pictures and zero posts. Three of the pictures are Elsa back in middle school, one of them is her posing elegantly with her Master's degree, and the last one is at an art exhibit from a couple of years ago.

Elsa's posing with some important-looking people next to an oil painting that no doubt has to be hers. What catches Anna's eye the most, however, is Elsa's expression. There's a rare softness in her eyes, and a slight rise of the corner of her lip.

A smile.

Anna makes the biggest mistake of wondering what it'd be like to see that smile in person.

* * *

Well...it's been a month since her and Elsa's last "lunch date". Anna hasn't seen even a glimpse of her throughout this whole time. She's done her best to live comfortably and try to move on, but a realization kept eating at her.

And the realization is that she hasn't felt this alone since her parents died.

Elsa's just some girl. There have to be at least twenty other girls like her in this city alone. So why is her absence affecting her this much? They weren't even dating, so it's not like she misses the feeling of Elsa's arms wrapped around hers or something like that.

It's odd. And annoying.

What's even more annoying is that Kristoff is on some cute, gross road trip with Ariel so that just makes her feel alonelier than she already is.

Alonelier. Anna gingerly rolls over on her couch to pick up her phone, checking to see if that's even a real word. "That's gotta be real," she grumbles. "Hey Snowflake, what do you want for lunch?"

Snowflake reacts the way cats usually do.

"Yeah, Chinese food does sound good."

There's an unexpected knock on her door that doesn't surprise Anna so much as annoys her. She rolls over and flops onto the floor, mutters a curse under her breath, and then picks herself up. "Mr. Wellington, I swear if it's you…" When he fixed her radiator, he alluded to a surprise inspection of the rest of her apartment, and of course Anna's not looking forward to that all.

But the person at the door is much taller than Mr. Wafflehouse, and a lot prettier too. And also they're a woman. A woman in familiar-looking overalls and ponytail, but with an unfamiliar look on her tired face. Leaning against her knee is a large portrait.

"Elsa?" Anna says, upset at herself that she still loses her breath around this woman. "What are you doing here?"

That unfamiliar look is still identifiable because it's one that Anna's had too much experience showing. The furrowed brow, the inability to look the other person in the eye, the deep frown are all tell-tale signs of guilt.

"I know I'm a bitch."

Anna stays silent, never thinking she would ever hear those words from her. Maybe it's supposed to feel cathartic to hear, but all Anna feels is empathy.

Elsa gives a pitiful shrug, "I could blame it on being picked on as a kid, or the trust issues I have when it comes to relationships, but the truth is by now I've just...chosen to be a bitch. I figure it's easier to do that than let anyone get close enough to hurt me again. But with you, I...I don't know. You confused me."

"I confused you," Anna repeats, with the same tone Elsa used during the whole coffee spill debacle.

"Yeah. You...said you liked me, and I guess I kind of liked that. And then I realized that maybe I kind of liked you too. It's been so long since I ever actually liked anyone, and I was so confused and did some really weird stuff. Like, you know, leaving the deli as soon as I was done eating. I'm not trying to excuse my shitty behavior, I just felt like I owed you an explanation. And an apology."

Anna crosses her arms, finds that way too uncomfortable, and puts her hands in her pockets instead. Elsa takes a deep breath as this is happening.

"I'm sorry for taking advantage of your kindness, and for not treating you the way you should have been treated. You have a good heart, you're easy to talk to, and you're…"

Anna raises an eyebrow, "You kinda mumbled there. What did you say?"

Elsa looks up, "I said you're pretty too."

Once again, Anna finds herself going silent. The differences between this Elsa and the Elsa she first met are like night and day. There's a distinct lack of a scowl on her face, and she just complimented Anna more than once. The anger that Anna's supposed to feel for her is slowly melting away, but unfortunately, Elsa isn't the only one who has trouble trusting people.

"Thank you...for saying that," Anna says while looking down at the ground. "But I don't know if I can accept your apology."

"That's fair," Elsa says, also looking at the ground. "But...maybe you can accept this?"

She picks the painting up and their eyes meet for the longest time in this whole conversation. On the canvas is a gorgeous oil painting of Anna sitting by her window with a sunflower in her hand. The details are so precise, Anna can see the listlessness in her own eyes, the maroon-colored florets inside the sunflower, the reflection of the city streets. As weird as it sounds, Anna cannot keep her eyes off herself.

"I know I never asked, but you struck me as a sunflower kind of girl," Elsa says softly.

Anna takes the portrait in her hands, keeping her hands as close to the sides as possible so that she doesn't smudge the paint. Upon further inspection, she also notices Snowflake in the background curled up on the carpet, and on the coffee table is a plate of...lasagna. Anna snickers.

"That bad?" Elsa asks.

Anna looks at her with wide eyes, "No! This- no, it's perfect. I love it. I was just looking at the lasagna in the background. It's a nice touch."

"Oh…" Elsa shows much more vulnerability by allowing herself to blush in front of Anna. And although it contrasts with her pale face and light blonde hair, it's still as lovely as the rest of her. "Thank you, uh...yeah you can keep it if you want. Or you can sell it or throw it away, it's up to you. I just hope you can accept it as a token for my gratitude, and as maybe a peace offering? I still kind of...might actually like you. Still. But I can't expect you to still like me back, so hopefully we can at least be friends or something."

Anna lowers the portrait and fixes her eyes on the guilt-ridden artist. "Or something," she repeats for no reason.

Elsa rubs the back of her neck and looks out at the hallway, "Yeah. So. I guess I should get out of your way now. Thanks again for listening to me." She steps away from the door and makes her way to the stairs.

And maybe it's crazy. Maybe it's stupid. Maybe it's exactly what she needs to do. Maybe it's a mixture of all these things, and a thousand other tinier things that compels Anna to put the portrait down and race out her door to follow Elsa.

Elsa walks fast, but Anna's able to catch her by the stairs and grabs her hand like an anime protagonist about to confess to their childhood friend. "Wait," she tells Elsa just to complete the analogy.

Elsa looks as Anna takes a couple more steps up. For the first time, they're seeing eye to eye, and Anna can see something in the other woman that's no longer a mystery. With uncharacteristic nonchalance masking her nervousness, she says, "I'm kinda bored. You wanna go get lunch?"

* * *

They agree to meet each other at the lobby in ten minutes, and to go somewhere that's _not_ a deli. Anna makes it down to the lobby first after giving her usual goodbye spiel to Snowflake and putting on some jeggings, a white shirt, and her denim jacket. It feels like forever until the elevator dings, and out comes-

"Oh, you're pretty."

Elsa is wearing her own denim jacket, but underneath it is a gorgeous, lilac-themed dress with skinny straps that's devoid of any paint splotches. Her hair is in this complex French braid that Anna's never seen on her before, but it fits her far too well. Elsa rolls her eyes at her compliment, but there's no hiding the blush on her cheeks.

"You ready?" Anna asks her.

Elsa looks out the front door and back at Anna. She says, "Yeah, I...I think I am."

She accompanies that answer with a smile, and Anna's never seen anything more beautiful.


End file.
